


The View From Here

by sherlockpond



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Big Finish Audio: Dinner and a Show, Flirting, Found Family, Jack being Jack, Minor Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Multi, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond
Summary: “That view... reminds me of my first day,”“You too, eh?”“I think he brings everyone up here,”“God, he is such a show-off,"[I couldn't stop thinking about how Jack takes everyone up onto the roof of the Millennium Centre. Posted on the eleventh anniversary of the on-screen death of Ianto Jones.]
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41





	The View From Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all!
> 
> It's been raining in North London for approximately 1,000 years and because of that I've been stuck inside writing all afternoon. I had to go into work this morning for the first time in four months, and it was weird as all hell. So I wrote this to make myself feel better.
> 
> As ever, huge, huge shout out to Beleriandings for beta-ing (and for generally putting up with me). Check her out on Ao3 or on tumblr as: ultraviolet-eucatastrophe.tumblr.com.
> 
> Happy on-screen death-day, Ianto Jones. [I hope that I did justice to GDL's writing with this. Big Finish notice me!]
> 
> Hope you're all having a slightly drier day than I am!

Toshiko 

The city is spread open from here, on top of the Millenium Centre - wonky Victorian rooftops flow into the neat lines of more modern architecture basking in the cold light of the early morning. The Plass is almost hidden by the arch of weathered gold beneath stretching out further ahead under her feet, Jack’s insisted they don’t get too near, they’re only here to watch the sunrise.

Toshiko looks to her left to see Jack watching her reaction as pale pinks and blues begin to stretch across the sky. He smiles warmly, just like he had all day, sorting out a place to call her own, furniture, clothes - all the things UNIT had destroyed when she’d been committed to what they assumed was her indefinite sentence. 

Enraged at first, Tosh had felt tears coming to her eyes earlier that day at the knowledge that the only possession she now owned was a dishevelled orange jumpsuit and prison grade shoes - Jack had quickly stepped in and told her not to worry (“I’ve got a plan,” he’d said with an unwavering assurance as they left the facility). But that had led her to think more deeply, her books, her favourite throw that her Grandmother had made for her and sent from Japan - all gone. Like it never existed. It hurt - it hurt knowing there was nothing she could do to get those things back, that they were long gone - all of her intelligence and she was powerless to stop something that happened weeks ago.

From the facility, Jack had taken her to Torchwood Three with the promise of a shower and some clothes (though he couldn’t promise they hadn’t been pre-worn). 

Torchwood Three was more incredible than she’d been expecting - a high vaulted ceiling, pools of constantly moving water, computer banks buzzing with promise - she had been tempted to pinch herself to check it was real (she didn’t, just in case this was all a dream). Jack had held out his hand and Tosh realised she’d frozen from her spot just past the cog entrance, she took the hand gratefully and let him lead her down a maze of corridors to a locker room. A fresh towel was provided, as well as guaranteed full privacy - before giving Tosh her space, Jack pulled out some clothes from an open locker and draped them over a chair. A mixture of men’s and women’s from various stages of fashion, nothing to write home about but at least they had been _clean_ and _fresh_ \- something Tosh had longed for during her time within the cell.

Once washed and sporting some ill-fitting (yet still well-received) jeans, she’d walked out into the corridor to find Jack waiting patiently for her.

His expression didn’t hide his sentiments when he saw her ensemble but he gave her a reassuring grin.

“Well, you won’t be walking down a catwalk anytime soon, but at least that jumpsuit’s gone. I hate to say it, but orange isn’t your colour,” he’d joked carefully.

Tosh didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because this was all _real_.

Jack had searched and found some shoes for her to wear whilst they were out, and soon they were leaving and heading into the City Centre.

Tosh had found out very quickly that money was not an issue when it came to Torchwood. It took an hour of Jack trying his best to warm Tosh up before she started to feel less guilty, they went to Dewi Sant and began accumulating bags full of clothes. Throwing in the occasional joke, Jack dutifully held up item after item as they wandered through racks and racks of clothes, Tosh nodded at some and fervently shook her head at others. He (all but dragged her to a designer section and) picked out a long leather coat; for a second she imagined herself in it before shaking her head, but for some reason Jack didn’t take no for an answer and slung it over his arm.

“If you’re going to be in Torchwood, you have to have a cool coat,” he’d said firmly, and apparently that was the end of the argument.

“It’s the rules,” he added with a wink.

They were heading back to the Bay when Jack steered Tosh towards a shop, arms full of bags they both shuffled in and Jack beamed as a man rounded a desk to (try to) shake both of their busy hands.

“Ah, Mr Harkness! What a wonderful coincidence! I was just about to phone you!” the man had said cordially.

“Good news, I hope?” 

The man had nodded “The flat is ready when you are,” he’d moved over to his desk and opened a drawer, producing a set of keys and handed them to Jack “all yours,”

Tosh had watched as Jack had given the man a thousand-watt smile and thanked him, before promising to call and ushering Tosh back out of the shop.

Once out, Jack had held out the keys to Tosh “The most important part. Your own place,”

Dumbfounded, Tosh had taken the keys.

“Not too far from the Bay, I hope you don’t mind,”

Numbly shaking her head, Tosh had turned the keys over in her palm and then looked up at him - eyes prickling hotly.

“ _Thank you_ ,”

So now they stand on top of the Millenium Centre in Cardiff, _a new start_. 

Jack had insisted introducing Tosh to the intricacies of the Hub and they’d got chatting late into the night, and before they both realised it had been either too late or too early to go to bed, so Jack had insisted on showing her the best view in Cardiff. 

Tosh takes a deep breath bringing herself back to the moment. The wind coming off the sea is cold, but the first few rays of sun are starting to creep up between the skyline, above the hills in the distance. Tosh has to stop herself from crying because it’s all a bit too much right now.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Jack,” Tosh says quietly.

Jack smiles “Thank me by helping this city. Five years, that’s all I ask - then you’re free to do whatever you want. You never know, you might even enjoy it here,”

Tosh turns back to watch as the first rays begin to touch the tops of the building and thinks about the piles upon piles of clothes she now owns, her mother safe, going home to her flat at the end of a long day. A few errant tears fall from her eyes and she sniffs, wiping them away with the itchy sleeve of her borrowed jumper.

She smiles.

“I think I just might,”

Owen 

Jack suggests beers with a view, and after an alien dissection on his first day, Owen can’t say no. Images of alien body parts, organs and blood flash in front of his eyes, and he shakes his head as he trudges numbly and dutifully behind the other man towards the rear of the Millenium Centre.

“Jack, I don’t think there’s a bar here,” Owen says, but Jack keeps walking, throwing a cool smile over his shoulder.

“Just trust me,” is his simple reply, Owen huffs a sigh at Jack’s blatant enjoyment of being enigmatic.

They come to an intimidatingly large metal gate, Jack pulls back his sleeve and fiddles with his leather wrist strap, after a few seconds the gate clunks and pops open - Jack reaches for it and pulls it open for Owen to slide through, the taller man grinning like a mischievous schoolboy as it clicks shut behind them.

Jack strides with more confidence than he probably should, and Owen follows him towards the rear of the Centre, watching as he begins to ascend a hard-wearing spiral staircase, Owen assumes some kind of fire escape, which runs along the side of the Millenium Centre wall, seemingly never ending up into the sky.

Owen has to admit, thirty seconds into climbing the steps, that perhaps this wasn’t the greatest idea, but he’s got this far so why start questioning his decisions now?

He’s half-dead from tiredness, and running on the adrenaline of currently living in an episode of X-Files, he tries not to let Jack hear his panting. Eventually (blessedly) they reach the end of the staircase, and Jack doesn’t break his stride as he walks over golden, hammered metal. 

It’s only now that Owen realises exactly where Jack’s brought him.

“Jack, are we on the roof?”

Jack chuckles and spins round, walking backwards and spread his arms “No better view in all of Cardiff, I’ll put money on it,”

Owen cracks a smile and draws his gaze across the mosaic of city and countryside, streetlights are starting to turn on, small lights illuminating in the windows of homes, fragments of light shimmering on the surface of the sea on the far left - he even spots the castle amidst the cacophony of Welsh architecture.

He looks back at Jack and sees him pull a can of Kronenburg out of each pocket, scoffing, Owen takes a proffered can and they tap them together lightly before cracking them open.

“To a hard day’s work,” Jack says, tipping his head.

“A hard day’s work,” Owen echoes, taking a blissful first sip of cold beer.

It’s only at that point that Owen realises that this might be the perfect job.

They stand in silence for a few seconds, enjoying the quietness of the night, occasionally taking an appreciative swig of beer.

“She’d be proud of you, you know,”

Owen feels his chest ache, like someone’s plunged a hand into his ribcage and grasped hold of his heart.

He looks at Jack, eyes steely.

“You didn’t even know her,” he says sharply, the words like ice.

Jack isn’t deterred “I know, but I do know it’s not easy - leaving a life behind and starting from scratch,”

Owen looks away but he can feel his hands shaking. He says nothing.

Jack prevails again “You should be proud of yourself. Most people puke at their first alien autopsy - I know I did - -,”

“ - _Jack_. Shut the hell up and let me just enjoy this beer without having to think about the internal organs of some creature from another galaxy,” Owen says coldly, before taking a longer drink from his can "and _don't_ pretend you know how I feel. I don't need you trying to psychoanalyse me on my first day."

Jack smiles sadly “Sorry,”

They fall back into silence.

Well, _nearly_ the perfect job.

Ianto 

Ianto isn’t stupid, he knows that this could be the time that the infamous Jack Harkness corners him for a ‘one to one’ moment (that would have made Linda from personnel at Torchwood One cry with fear). Standing on the roof of a building he’d grown up visiting (on strictly special occasions) he enjoys the sensation of being higher than the rest of the city. The vista’s beautiful on a day like this - the skies blue, completely devoid of clouds, the sun with just the right intensity to warm his skin and a breeze that turns up the corners of his suit. Lush.

It’s at that moment that he feels the familiar warmth of a hand on his lower back, and when he turns his head he notices Jack looking at him in a way he’s never seen before.

Ianto coughs a little awkwardly.

“It’s nice up here, sir,” Ianto says, taking a step forward and dislodging the hand, pretending to look over the edge at the sheer drop. He hears Jack sigh behind him and then turns back to look at the other man.

“I thought you might like it,” Jack says, smiling curtly.

A gaggle of seagulls shriek from the Bay side and they both watch as a dozen fly up into the air and lazily shift and flap, calling to each other. The water below the gulls moves like velvet, rhythmically, hypnotically - scattering shards of sunlight across the surface.

“It’s been quite the first week for you,” Jack says, trying again.

“Nothing I’m not already adept with,” Ianto replies neutrally, giving him a glance and a polite smile.

Jack nods and then averts his line of sight back to the view in front of them.

“It’s probably not a surprise to you that your dinosaur wrangling isn’t entirely the reason I hired you,”

Ianto smirks _There it is._

“And here I was thinking you’d hired me as your go-to monster-catcher,”

Jack chuckles “I wanted to ask if you’d forgive my stubbornness, just to clear the air. I thought you were a paper-pusher, but it turns out your quite _adept_ at field work, too,”

The younger man feels his stomach knot but he stifles it.

_Lisa._

“Well, you know what they say - persistence pays off,” Ianto says, brushing it off as coolly as he can.

Jack nods and eyes Ianto carefully “I hope so,” 

Their gaze meets, Ianto gets the feeling Jack doesn’t mean it in the same context he’d intended.

Shaking his head and chuckling wryly, Jack dispels the tension “And if I’m honest, I don’t think I know anyone who can make coffee the way you do,”

Ianto grins and shoves his hands into his trouser pockets “Well, it’s good to have job security at a time like this,”

Jack barks out a laugh “It is indeed. Actually, I’m going to head back, feel free to stay. I’m not sure I trust Owen alone with Suzie,”

“I think she can take care of herself,” Ianto says, a little confused (and defensive - not that he’d ever show it in front of Torchwood’s second in command).

Jack arches an eyebrow “I know, it’s not her I’m worried about,”

“Ah. Well, I’ll be sure to keep a copy of the staff assault forms close to hand,” Ianto says dryly.

“That’s probably a good call. Head home if you want, it looks like the Rift’s exhausted itself for now,” Jack says, nodding to the staircase on the other side of the roof.

“Thank you, sir. I think I can hear my bed calling,”

Never missing an opportunity, Jack smiles wolfishly “Is that a proposition, Ianto?”

Ianto gives Jack a lazy, cursory once-over in an attempt to keep him hooked “I wouldn’t like to answer - sounds like a lot of paperwork to me. Have a nice night, _sir_ ,” 

Turning on his heel, he strides away towards the stairs - smirking the entire time and leaving a more than slightly confused Jack in his wake.

He allows the expression to rest on his lips whilst he basks in having the upper hand, before it disappears after a brief glance to check the coast is clear. Ianto hurries towards the front of the Bay and heads off to the garage, he squeezes past the SUV and Owen’s stupid Mazda, then unlocks his old Audi before climbing in. He’s aware the garage has CCTV, but allows himself a moment to breathe, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on to the seat. He takes a few seconds to collect himself and then slots the key into the ignition, and smoothly maneuvers the car out of the garage.

The roads are nice and clear, with most people out enjoying the good weather. He gets home in record time despite not rushing, and pulls up outside his flat - feeling a weight lift off his chest.

Grabbing his bag from the back seat, Ianto pulls himself out of the car and heads towards the block of moderately expensive flats. Once he gets into the building, his feet automatically guide him to his own front door and soon he’s inside the safety of his flat. There’s a distinctive rhythmic beeping coming from the front room, and Ianto takes a deep breath and plasters a warm smile on his face. He hangs up his bag and toes off his shoes, lining them up neatly by the door before heading towards the noise. A familiar sight greets him as he rounds the corner, Lisa strung up on her frame - twisted metal and flashing lights.

“Ianto?” 

Double checking his smile, Ianto brings himself into her line of sight.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t get home earlier,” he says, peeling off his suit jacket and draping it over the sofa “do you need anything?”

Lisa swallows, but it looks a little painful “Water, please,”

“‘Course,” Ianto takes the cup from the dining room table next to her and puts the straw to her lips, he watches her drink for a few seconds before she lets the straw drop, he replaces the cup back on the table.

“Any pain?” he says, pulling back the blanket over her and checking various IV lines, monitors.

Lisa shakes her head “Nothing terrible. Ianto, I - -,”

“- - I’m going to move you tomorrow,” Ianto says, knowing full well what she was about to say “and I sent off an email to a specialist, she should reply within a few days so don’t go giving up now.”

Lisa persists “But what if - -,” 

“- - Lisa, _please_ , we’ve got this far. Tomorrow night I’ll take you to Torchwood, where there’s more power - you won’t need to sleep so much,” Ianto says firmly, taking one of her cheeks in his palm “I _promised_ , and remember what I said yesterday... I always keep my promises.”

Lisa smiles a little and her eyes begin to droop “I know.”

“Get some rest, I’ve worked out a way to get you to the Bay without too much strain on your body. Just...get your strength up a bit.” Ianto watches as her eyes close. He pulls the blanket back up to her shoulders and presses a kiss to her forehead, then stands back and reaches over to draw the curtains, throwing the room into semi-darkness.

“I can’t give up on you Lisa, not now,”

_fin_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed that? Why not comment, bookmark or kudos? (You don't even need an account to leave kudos or a comment!) I've written lots of other stuff, too, so feel free to have a look.
> 
> I'm on tumblr, too: 
> 
> sherlockpond.tumblr.com
> 
> See you soon!


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